Last night I was laying in bed drifting off to sleep and all I could see was his face.
His hands.
His big masculine hands worn by wrinkles and wounds.
His voice speaking out to me.
His barratone voice saying that he missed me, telling me he was with me.
Telling me he is proud of me.
I started crying, tears strieking my face, slowly shaking as I realized...
It was all a dream.
He is gone...
and I don't get to call him.
I don't get to hold his hand or hug him.
I miss him.
Never Forget!
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